


Umbrella (The "Stick It Out 'Til the End" Mix)

by sarken



Category: Real News RPF
Genre: Air America, FNFF OT, Gen, Lesbian Character, New York City
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-22
Updated: 2010-02-22
Packaged: 2017-10-07 12:16:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/65077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarken/pseuds/sarken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rachel's first day in New York City before the Air America launch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Umbrella (The "Stick It Out 'Til the End" Mix)

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [](http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v48/sarken/crap/?action=view&current=rainbow.jpg)this picture from the FNFF OT on February 22, 2010.

The first day of spring feels like summer in New York, all overcast skies and stifling humidity. It seeps into her apartment through the open window, and Rachel's chest aches with how much she hates it here. She wants to be home with Susan and Brewster and the chill of Massachusetts spring, not sitting on the floor of an unfurnished apartment while she eats un-reheated takeout and cuts the legs off her jeans.

Her bare legs itch when she steps outside, and she scratches her left calf with her sneakered foot, wishing she had thought to shave. It only takes her a moment to remember she doesn't have a razor, just like she doesn't have a bar of soap or a box of tissues. Her nose still hurts from crying into a McDonald's napkin, and she thinks that means she should find a Duane Reade and then a liquor store. If there's time, she'll buy some groceries before her meeting with Liz, but she has enough cold Chinese for three more meals.

With a sigh, she shifts her messenger bag on her shoulder and flings open the building's front gate, striding out onto the sidewalk. Her first step ends with her foot in a puddle, the water soaking through the canvas of her Chucks. She counts to three, shakes her foot out, and tells herself she is done crying for the day. Drugstore, liquor store, Liz -- it becomes her mantra, and she uses it to drown out her squishy footsteps as she heads for the nearest intersection. Drugstore, liquor store, Liz. After that, she will have soap and rye whiskey and a job, and she will wake up to a tomorrow that is better than today.


End file.
